


Prompt No.6 - Dragged Away

by orphan_account



Series: Hamilton Whumptober 2019 [6]
Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Anxiety, Canonical Character Death, Crying, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Homophobic Language, Period-Typical Homophobia, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 11:24:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20947541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: During a debate, Charles Lee insults Alexander Hamilton in more ways than one, where it really hurts. The fallout is not pretty.For Whumptober 2019Prompt No.6 - Dragged Away





	Prompt No.6 - Dragged Away

**Author's Note:**

> It's Lin's. Not mine.
> 
> NOTE: Please heed the tags. While I tried to keep it light, there is period-typical homophobia.

It happened within a flash, a blink of Aaron’s eyes.

Hamilton had stood, hands flat on his desk as he shouted across the hall at Jefferson about his economic plans. Jefferson mimicked his aggressive tone with egregious, high-pitched mockery. His lips moved exaggeratedly as his hand mirrored the sentiment, his fingers impersonating Hamilton’s mouth as Hamilton talked louder, talked faster, his eyes jumping and darkening and expression contorting with anger. He continued to smack his palms on the table top as Jefferson spurred him on.

“--Alas!” He shouted. “Secretary Jefferson has shown his true colors! A man of poor wit and childish mockery! Have you nothing more concrete to say?”

Jefferson rolled his eyes. His hand dropped to the table with a thunk. “Not to you, at least.”

“Then perhaps you should keep _ both _ of your mouths shut?” Hamilton raised his eyebrows, lips tight, his body tense and shaking as if he wanted to spew more vile curses Jefferson’s way.

Jefferson shrugged. “I apologize, Hamilton, but one needs two mouths in order to keep up with your overtly large one.”

“Why you...!”

Aaron tuned out the bickering of Hamilton and Jefferson. He glanced through his papers, flipping through the stack quickly. They had only covered two of the eight topics they had prepared for that day, and were currently snagged on the discussions of the banking system in the new America. He glanced up, watching in a numb haze as Jefferson had, too, rose from his chair and threw fingers and insults across the room at Hamilton.

From his chair, Washington groaned softly under the back-and-forth quip. He cradled his forehead in his hand, whispering something to himself. The men fought like school children, Aaron realized lamely, and Washington must have felt awfully similar to an exhausted father at the time being. What with Jefferson prodding Hamilton, and Hamilton and his hair-trigger temper, it was a wonder they got anything done at all. They still had six topics to cover, and lunch was quickly approaching.

“Mister Lee!” Washington interrupted. Jefferson snapped his mouth shut and sat down. Hamilton shrunk back into his seat. Washington sat a bit straighter in his chair. “You have been quiet all morning. What say you, general?”

Lee gaped quietly. He fumbled for a moment, shuffling papers and nearly toppling his inkwell - earning an unsolicited groan from Hamilton - before he rose shakily from his chair and said, “I am...unsure, sir.”

“Unsure how?” Washington’s glare narrowed.

Lee shook his head. “I...apologize, but I was unable to keep track of the..._ bickering _ .” Jefferson scoffed. Hamilton leaned back, arms crossed. Lee shot Hamilton a heated glare before continuing, “Perhaps the atmosphere could be a bit more... _ professional _, sir.”

Washington’s face slackened to dulled amusement. He blinked sluggishly. “And to what standards would that be, sir?”

Aaron fully expected Lee to snap at both Jefferson and Hamilton. He anticipated Jefferson’s snappy voice and Hamilton’s shouts of protest. But Lee’s pointed finger jerked to Hamilton’s direction as Lee snarled, “He is only causing more disagreement. I vote Hamilton to leave the room!”

Silence fell over the members. Lee’s ears burned bright red but he held his chin high as Washington’s brown scrunched and Hamilton snorted, “I beg your pardon? Was secretary Jefferson not the man who instigated this such disagreements in the first place? I merely argued back, something you are clearly unwilling to do!”

Jefferson offered in a sing-song tone, winking, “Shut your mouth, Hamilton.” He smiled coyly.

It was an obvious joke-of-sorts. It seemed commonplace amongst the delegates that Hamilton and Jefferson, while political enemies, did not actually hate one another. Indeed, they frustrated one another beyond their limits, but beyond that, they were highly professional and terribly accurate at their jobs. And Aaron knew Hamilton to enjoy the game, the thrill of the chase. Jefferson was a real challenger of hot-headed wits, ready to pounce, just as Hamilton was. The men were similar in such a sense. Their interactions, while entertaining, bred congruent thoughts to form their government and laws, and Aaron admired it, no matter how much it nagged him in the court room. Yes, the men always prodded at one another, but only when the other was ready and willing for a challenge. No hostility had ever passed outside their meeting rooms, never bleeding into their personal lives.

Lee, however, hadn’t seem to receive such message. With the whites of his eyes alight with fury, he growled, “Yes, Hamilton. _ Do _ shut your mouth.”

Jefferson reeled in his chair. Hamilton blinked wide. Aaron himself felt his hair rise on the back of his neck at the sudden hostile force punching through Lee’s tone. Washington seemed to sense the tenacity of the situation as well, as he leaned forward and said, “If you have grievances, Lee, then please, if you would, state them now as to clear the air of any further foul treatment towards my secretary treasury.”

“Ah, my grievances are innumerable, as I am sure _ all _ here can attest to!” Lee threw his arms out, and murmurs passed amongst the delegates. “Mister Hamilton! You seem to think yourself the smartest man in this room! And I can assure you, you are _ not! _”

Hamilton grinned. “I don’t see _ you _ in the secretary treasury’s seat, mister Lee.”

Lee twisted around to face Washington. “And _ you _, mister president! What possessed you to hire a man of such laughable intelligence?”

“I beg your pardon?” Washington’s chest puffed out as he spoke. Hamilton blanched in surprise.

“Yes, Washington!” Lee spouted. “What possessed you all those years ago to appoint a homeless sinner in your army?”

The room tensed. Washington gaped over at Lee.

Hamilton seemed to shrink into himself. Aaron watched with dumbfounded surprise as, instead of picking a fight, Hamilton sunk lower into his seat, hands clasped tight.

Washington mumbled, “I _ beg _your pardon, general. But I am afraid I do not understand your implications--”

“He is a _sodomite.__ Is he not?_” Lee slammed his hand on the table. Papers flew. Hamilton pulled himself upright in his chair. “Do not _ toy _ with me! I know from what _ filth _ you came from! You belong on that island with your _ whore of a mother-- _”

“You son of a _ bitch! _ ” Hamilton kicked his chair from underneath him. He shoved the table from his pathway. Face red, eyes blistering with rage, he surged forward after Lee. “I swear to _ God _ I will make you swallow your words _ along with your teeth _ when I _ punch _them down your throat!”

Lee scrambled back, shrieking, “_ Get back! _ How _ dare _ you threaten me! First you instigate to shoot me, then you _ threaten _ me_!_”

“Silence!” Washington rose to his feet.

Hamilton shoved another table aside, nearly toppling Knox in his seat. “Come here!” he screamed, reaching out for Lee. Lee threw a chair at Hamilton. Delegates scattered. The chair hit Hamilton’s arm as he threw it up to protect himself. He stumbled back against a desk, winded but wild with rage. “I will _ kill _ you for your words, Lee!”

“Submit!” Lee reached for another chair. “You sodomite _ pig! _ I have _ seen _ the way your_ eyes _ look upon men and women alike! You, a _ man whore-- _”

“_Shut_ _up!_” Hamilton cried. He broke into a run.

Washington nearly clotheslined him, grabbing him by the collar and hooking an arm around his chest. Hamilton choked at the sudden force, stumbling back into Washington’s chest. Aaron, from his seat, heard Washington say into Hamilton’s ear, “We are done here.” He practically threw Hamilton in the direction of the doors, their backs to Lee. Hamilton began stomping away.

“Disgusting! He whored himself out to that _ John Laurens' cock _, the sodomite, just like his _mother!_”

Hamilton's fists went white at his sides.

He kept walking until he reached the end of the row of tables where Aaron sat. Washington had given him some space.

Aaron saw his foot pivot on the floor before his whole body moved, twisting around, a scream ripping up his already raw throat as he launched himself for Lee once again.

Aaron jumped to stand, body slamming himself into Hamilton.

The scrawny prick had muscle, it seemed, as Aaron struggled, being shoved _ backwards _ as Hamilton fought against him, his voice grating in his ears. "Take that back!" He kneed Aaron in the stomach as he scrambled in his grip. "Take back what you _said!_" Washington appeared out of nowhere, plucking Hamilton out of Aaron’s hold with his elbows hooked under Hamilton’s arms. He dragged him back, occasionally carrying his weight as Hamilton kicked and flailed and shrieked at Lee to take everything back, to take what he said about _John Laurens_ back, voice shaking, quivering more than his limbs did as he fought against Washington.

Aaron’s heart hammered in his chest. Hamilton’s screaming continued even as the door slammed shut behind him and Washington. Lee curled in the corner of the court room, wiping his brow with a handkerchief as a few of the delegates asked if he was all right. “That sinner believes himself to be better than me.” he whined. “If this world were fair, I would hang him myself for his crimes.”

Jefferson’s narrowed eyes with Aaron's. He jutted his chin in the direction of the door before he turned to Lee and said, "For the love of God, shut the _fuck _up."

Aaron quickly exited into the hallway as delegates murmured amongst themselves.

It was far quieter out of the court room. His ears rang quietly from when Hamilton screamed right next to him, spurring on a soft headache that blossomed from the sides of his head down his neck. He rubbed his temples as he began pacing, taking steady breaths to quiet his flooded heart. It was rare Hamilton had fits of rage that broke chairs and desks. It was even more rare to see him _lose_ his temper, not one for deliberate violence. But by far the most jarring to Aaron was the cracking voice, the hollowed sadness that reverberated through all of his words.

Aaron stumbled around the staircases, towards the maid's quarters.

Soft whispers - Washington’s voice, Aaron's mind supplied - echoed nearby. At first, Aaron couldn’t quite make them out. They pooled from down a scrawny hallway near the side of the building, where servants fetched water and food from the kitchens in the back. Aaron inched closer, listening intently.

“Breathe, my boy. You need to breathe. _Alexander. _For God's sake, son. Here, give me that--” There was a rustling off cloth, followed by a choked-off wheeze and a gasp for breath. “Alexander,” Washington laughed bitterly. It held no humor. “If you continue, at this rate, you may pass out. I would not enjoy bringing you back to Eliza on my back, son."

Hamilton’s voice came strained and breathless. “I--I’m sorry...I…” He trailed off and made a strangled sound--no. Cried. _ Sobbed, _in fact, if Aaron heard correctly. He inched a bit closer, until he was at the corner of the hallway. Carefully, he poked his head around.

Washington obscured much of Hamilton from where he was hunched on the floor, head between his knees as his shoulders shook and hands squeezed tight against the material of his breeches. His cravat had been taken off, left to sit on the floor alongside his coats. Hamilton choked, coughing up more tears, and Washington’s hand on the back of his neck pressed firmer. “Relax, Alexander.” Washington said softly. “You mustn’t let Lee’s words hurt you. There will always be more like him. You must stand tall."

Aaron wondered what had gotten the secretary so worked up? Surely, Lee's spouting of his heritage and personal life must have been humiliating. And the insults upon his mother vile. But they were just that: insults.

“I...I _ understand _ , sir. But _ John-- _” And as Hamilton’s voice cracked with another bout of tears, Aaron understood.

It had nothing to do with his heritage, nor his rank nor past nor service nor anything else.

John Laurens had been dead for a little less than a month now, the wound still undoubtedly fresh in Hamilton's heart. When Aaron had first heard the news, he found himself oddly melancholy as, while Laurens was equally as intense as Hamilton, the man was, at least, far more tolerable in regards to his manners and patience, and he possessed a certain passion that reminded Aaron of the late months of spring rather than Hamilton's blazing fires of summer.

But Aaron was nowhere near as close to John as Hamilton was.

They were like brothers. Whispers had even said they were more than that. Aaron had always believed they were the best and closest of friends, but only Hamilton and Laurens knew the true extent of their relationship. Side-by-side, hip-by-hip, they stood with one another through the thick and thin of the war, ever since that day at the bar when Hamilton had first touched land, they had become inseparable. And while Aaron knew _they_ knew sodomy was illegal, a crime punishable by death, he didn't think it above him. The softened glances and gentle touches always birthed strange mutterings across the camps. It was likely just to be a rumor, but it _was _possible, Aaron knew.

Another sob ripped up Hamilton’s throat. His head flew up, hair smacking the wall as it flew from his queue. He wiped at his eyes with the backs of his hands when his gaze froze on Aaron.

Aaron stiffened.

“Burr,” Hamilton sat up straight. His voice was shredded. Washington turned around. “What…?”

“I…” Aaron swallowed dryly. “I apologize for the intrusion. I merely…” He caught side of Hamilton’s red-rimmed eyes, glassy with tears, his cheeks hot and hair sweaty and sticking to his face, and something caved inside Aaron. Something deep. Something that caved the same day he greeted his dearest daughter into the world. Something that caved the same moment he realized he had fallen in love with Theodosia. He sighed and said, quietly, “My condolences, mister Hamilton.” When Hamilton’s face pinched with confusion, Aaron finished, “For the death of mister Laurens. I had not yet offered my condolences to you. I understand you two were...close.”

“We were.” Hamilton croaked. Washington’s hand dropped from the back of Hamilton’s neck as the man rose to his feet shakily. He snagged his coats and cravat from off the floor. His eyes darkened protectively as he spat, “You think us sodomites as well?”

Washington opened his mouth. Aaron answered fast, “It is not my place to assume.”

Hamilton kicked his foot awkwardly against the floor. A sour laugh escaped his lips before he glanced back up at Aaron, a soft stream of tears streaking down his cheeks. “I loved him, mister Burr. As I love my children, and my dearest wife Eliza, I loved John.”

Aaron licked his lips. He noticed Washington’s gaze narrowing on him, but with his lips already loose from confusion and nervous tension, he blurted out, “So it was sodomy?”

“No.” Hamilton spat. “He never touched me. Nor I him.” He held his chin high as he asked, “Must love always be sexual, mister Burr? Can it not be a deep admiration? A deep appreciation? Or perhaps romantic, with nothing more involved? Can it not be a mate for whom belongs to your soul, not your body nor mind?”

Aaron whispered, “Are you mad?”

“With grief? Perhaps.”

Washington’s arm draped across Hamilton’s shoulders. He faced Aaron and said, “Please inform the delegates that our meeting will be postponed until tomorrow.” Quickly, he ushered Hamilton down the skinny hallway. As Washington passed Aaron, he said, “And please inform mister Lee that, as of today, his services are no longer desired. He is, effective immediately, fired.”

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: This is a rewrite. Due to...sensitivity issues that someone had brought up and had issues with, I have heavily edited this fic. And the topic made me extremely frustrated and uncomfortable, so I have decided to change the focus of this fic until I am able to write my desired topic more effectively.
> 
> If you're reading the revised version, then hello and thank you for reading.
> 
> If you are an original reader who is like, "what?" welcome back.
> 
> I apologize in advance for anything that may be offensive to people. It is never my intention to insult people. Never. And remember, you are not entitled to read my work or something. If something bothers you, PLEASE do not read my work.


End file.
